NINE
B y five in the afternoon, Poison’s feet were killing her—well, her feet and the chafing between her thighs from not wearing underwear all day. She was busy finishing up for the day when her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She smiled when she saw the caller ID.
“You’re really persistent, you know that?” she said by way of greeting Scorpion.
“Well, hello to you too, Little Viper,” he answered and once again made the wasps in her stomach go at it.
“Hi,” she smiled. “You found my panties yet?”
“Oh, I have, but I’m afraid you won’t be getting them back. I’m adding them to my collection.”
“Perve,” she teased.
She realized some of the guys were staring, and the last thing she wanted was for anyone to see her act like a little girl with a crush—so she stepped out of the building.
“You phoned just to tell me you’re building a shrine in my honor?”
His answering laugh set the flame between her legs alight.
“Not just that. I wanted to know if you have plans for tonight. It is Friday, after all.”
“Wow, three nights in a row. Careful, I might get the wrong idea,” she teased, yet a part of her hoped it was the right idea.
“What can I say, I know what I want, and what I want is you.”
She breathed the blush away, trying to center her emotions.
“Unfortunately, I can’t,” she answered, disappointment in her voice. “I have crew responsibilities tonight”
It was true in a way. She had to be at the Quarry. Skel had phoned her earlier with the news. They had a lead on her brother’s killer. He was back in the city. And if he were back, he would show his face at tonight’s tournament. She was sure of it. She refused to miss another opportunity to get the vengeance her brother deserved.
“That’s understandable. I’ll see you tomorrow
night, then.”
His voice brought her back to the present, and she smiled despite the million voices screaming all at once in her head. She could almost picture his smirk on the other end of the line.
“I’ll be working tomorrow,” she admitted with a sigh.
“Oh, I know.” His reply was laced with a tone that made her curious.
“How?” she asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. She can’t remember telling him about the launch.
“You forgot how we met already?” She laughed at the dramatic tone of his voice, the sound easing some of the tension within her.
“You’ll be working at the launch?” she asked.
“I’ll see you there,” he answered, and the line went dead.
Smiling at the unexpected chance of seeing him again, she ordered a Cruze to take her home.
She made it to her apartment and headed straight for the shower. Melissa was right; she did smell of sex, even though she loved Scorpion’s scent still lingering on his shirt. But for now, she had to get her mind straight for the task she was about to face.
She had waited for over a decade for the opportunity to face Jonathan’s murderer, and she refused to fuck it up. He had to show his face tonight. And when he did, she would be ready for him and challenge him to a death match.
Underground rules dictated a two-week truce period after a death match challenge was set so both parties could get their affairs in order. She didn’t know if she could restrain herself for two weeks, knowing that the scumbag lived, but the Underworld was merciless. They weren’t very forgiving when it came to disobeying their rules.
Once out of the shower, she tied a robe around her body and stepped onto the patio for a smoke—anything to try and quiet the voices.
She stood with her forearms on the railing, looking out over the harbor. Watching as life went by down below, she blew out a puff of smoke. The Normals in the street just went about their day, and for once, she envied them.
Turning away from the street and the futile thoughts, she walked over to her closet. She pushed the back panel aside, revealing a hidden compartment. Retrieving a duffle bag, she double-checked the contents and placed the bag on the bed before she got dressed.
She picked out a matching black sports bra and leggings with venom green trimming. Slipping on black sneakers, she threw her leather jacket over the duffle and
went to do her makeup.
She always wore heavy, dark makeup before stepping into the ring—her mask, her shield, leaving no room for a single crack in the ruthless facade she was determined to uphold.
It was dark when she parked her bike in front of the Quarry. The parking lot was full of cars and motorcycles, and it fascinated her that the cops hadn’t shut them down yet. The old mine was condemned and off-limits to the public. Yet every night, hundreds, if not thousands of people came to either watch or fight. The Italians must have had bottomless pockets.
On the other hand, she was sure every police department in the city belonged to either one of the families ruling the city. The Italians, Japanese, and the old money American mobs all had their own territory which they ruled over.
The sound of crowds cheering met her at the door, along with two bouncers—their massive bodies blocking the entrance with their arms crossed.
“Jim. Bob.” She nodded and greeted the two men.
“Access denied,” the man on the right answered, his Italian accent heavy.
“Oh, come now, boys. I thought we were all friends here,” she said, giving them her most innocent face.
“How long have you been coming here, Miss Poison?” The man on the left raised his eyebrows and stepped into her direct path.
“Jim, it’s not very gentlemanly to ask a lady to give away her age like that.”
“It’s been fifteen years,” he answered for her. “Fifteen years of you making the same joke and insisting on naming us Jim and Bob. Despite Bob having been about seven other men.”
The man next to him gave him an exasperated look but just shrugged and allowed someone else to enter.
“You can have access once you learn our names.”
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she smiled at the mountain of a man.
“Well, Giovanni. You started at the Quarry exactly fourteen years and ten months ago. I joined this ring three months prior. And you are Roberto,” She turned to the other bouncer. “You’ve been here for seven months, starting as a crowd controller. Before you, there was Antonio,” She started counting on her fingers. “Marco, Luca, Giuseppe, Francesco, Matteo, and Leonardo.”
Their jaws fell to the ground, and she leaned forward to shut their mouths for them; an index finger under each’s chin.
“Now, if you boys will excuse me, I have some bones to break.” But their stupor didn’t allow them to answer or move. “If you don’t move, you’ll find out exactly why I’m the only crew leader in this territory who doesn’t answer to the Don.”
That made them step aside, and she walked past them, pushing the metal doors open.
As she stepped inside the Quarry, her senses were immediately overwhelmed by a discord of sounds and a riot of colors. The air buzzed with anticipation, punctuated by shouts and cheers from the crowd. The scent of sweat and adrenaline hung thick in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.
Her eyes adjusted to the neon lit interior, revealing a sprawling arena bathed in flashing neon lights. The space was cavernous, with towering walls of rough-hewn stone looming on all sides, casting long shadows across the floor. A fighting ring stood in the center of the arena, surrounded by rows of metal bleachers packed with spectators.
The crowd was a sea of faces drawn together by their shared thirst for blood. Some cheered wildly, waving banners and flags in support of their favorite fighters, while others watched with grim determination, their eyes fixed on the action below.
In the ring, two fighters circled each other warily, their movements fluid and precise. The sound of their fists meeting flesh echoed through the arena, accompanied by the occasional grunt of exertion. The intensity of the fight was palpable; each blow landing with bone-jarring force.
She moved around the back of the bleachers to the locker room, where she arranged to meet with Skel.
A loud thud was followed by the crowd cheering and the announcer calling: “K.O” through the speakers when she walked into the locker room. Her whole crew was already waiting for her.
“Good evening, everyone.” Her voice was authoritative, and her spine straightened despite the pressure of tonight on her shoulders. She couldn’t allow her crew to see any vulnerability.
What if he showed up tonight? Would she be ready to face Jonathan’s killer? Or would she lose everything she worked toward for the past decade?
“There’s no sign of him yet,” Skel said, stepping forward.
She gave him a grateful nod, admiring her second-in-command. Skel’s hazel eyes glinted with determination as he scanned the room, his gaze unwavering and vigilant. His olive-toned skin exuded an aura of calm confidence, contrasting with the tension in the air.
With a nod of assurance, Skel conveyed his unwavering support to her, and she knew he was silently promising to stand by her side no matter what.
“Keep your eyes and ears open for any sign,” Turning, she addressed her crew. “If anyone hears anything, report back to me. And do not engage. I repeat, do not engage. Reaper is mine.”
Everyone set out on the trail for blood—everyone except Skel and Cat. She turned to her two most loyal friends.
“Mi Hermana,” Cat said, stepping forward and hugged her, her smoky brown eyes full of worry. “We will find him. And you will have your revenge.”
“Thanks, Cat. I know. It’s just…” she trailed off and leaned against the doorframe, looking out at the ring.
“We get it, boss lady,” Skel stepped to her side. “We all do.”